


Skilled Hands

by HedonistInk



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Christmas, M/M, Unprofessionalism, christmas elves - Freeform, christmas elves au, mikasa is a plotter, past eremarco, salty!Marco, this started out so tame and then devolved into porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-08 19:36:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5510447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HedonistInk/pseuds/HedonistInk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marco Bodt is one of the youngest yet most renowned master toymakers in the toymaking department. Unfortunately with great skill comes great fame, something Marco would rather do without. Tired of being assigned star-struck apprentices who oogle him more than actually work, he's become disillusioned with the whole thing. That is, until the nonchalant Jean Kirschtein is assigned as his new apprentice. Maybe working with someone isn't so bad after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Skilled Hands

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoy this piece, reynkout! I just thought your christmas elf au prompt request was really entertaining, I hope I did it justice!   
> I sort of had an elf village similar to the one depicted in The Santa Clause series in my head when I was writing.

"Marco the master toymaker" was a name that was well known throughout the entire workshop, far beyond the reaches of the toymaking department. The olive-skinned toymaker with the cascade of freckles that seemed to cover everywhere had unwittingly made a reputation for himself for his natural talent and dedication. He had progressed passed the trainee phase by fifteen, did only ten years on the workline, apprenticed with various master toymakers for ten years, spent barely fifteen years as a certified toymaker, and made master toymaker at barely fifty while the average was nearly two hundred. He had only been occupying the position for the last six decades so it was still "recent news" as far as everyone was concerned. While he appreciated the recognition and it was nice to be able to do things like skipping the breakfast line as he had done that morning when he'd gotten up just a few minutes—or well maybe thirty—later than intended, being gawked at had lost its charm a few decades ago, at least. Marco couldn't help but feel he was getting too old for this celebrity treatment, despite being young compared to most of the other masters.

Sitting at a table in the corner behind one of the pillars that supported the vast arching ceiling of his usual eating spot known as Trost cafeteria, as far away from notice as he possibly could be, he had still been approached by no fewer than five trainee toymakers as he tried to finish eating his french toast; all asked him to look over their suggestions for new toys and designs; all hoped he would be struck by their brilliance and take them as his new personal apprentice; all were sent away bitterly disappointed. It wasn't that Marco was harsh, exactly, he just didn't see the need to give false hope to those who he frankly didn't think were particularly talented.

Marco finally managed to get to his workbench thankfully only a few minutes late for once. A promising sign of the the day ahead, he hoped. He looked over the schedule for the day before he got started. His morning was pretty standard; he had to finish up the faces for a batch of porcelain dolls he had been working on and he always loved personalizing their expressions. Marco let out a small puff of disappointed air, pushing his dark hair from his freckled forehead as he read the dreaded words "apprentice orientation" scheduled in for his afternoon. That "promising sign" was clearly just a fluke. He disliked few things more than being assigned a new apprentice. Marco still wasn't sure why the head toymakers council kept trying to make him take a new apprentice every year. It hadn't worked out well in quite some time. In Marco's opinion, they were nearly all weak-willed nothings who—while admittedly talented—were either too star-struck by Marco's reputation as one of the best (if not _the_ best) toymakers in the department to focus or too afraid of "disappointing" him to do any actually decent work. They usually spent a few weeks tripping over their own feet and generally getting in Marco's way more than actually helping before he lost his patience, chewed them out severely, and had them reassigned to a different master toymaker.

The last decent apprentice he'd gotten had been Mikasa because she didn't put him on some sort of pedestal; but it was nearly thirty years ago now that she'd stopped being his apprentice and she'd long since graduated to having her own workbench as a certified toymaker. There was talk that she might join him as a master toymaker soon, possibly even before she turned a hundred. Marco didn't envy the day she was assigned her own star-struck apprentice to annoy her.

Marco shook his head to clear his thoughts, deciding to focus on his work instead.

\---

The morning went by quickly, perhaps quicker than he would have liked, and Marco dragged his feet through his lunch break as best as he could. As he headed slowly back to the toymaking department, he wondered idly and maybe a bit contemptuously about what starry-eyed fangirl he'd have waiting for him when he arrived back at his bench.

But what he found was not what he expected.

"You're late, y'know," remarked the guy waiting for him as he pushed himself off where he'd been leaning against Marco's workbench and stretched. He offered a hand for Marco to shake. "I'm Jean. Your new apprentice or whatever."

Marco was slightly shell-shocked as he shook the offered hand, unable to help himself looking this guy, Jean, up and down. Definitely didn't seem remotely as starstruck as the usual apprentices. And definitely nice to look at. He was only slightly shorter than Marco but slim-built, a contrast to Marco's own more muscular build, which made him seem significantly smaller somehow. His two-toned undercut stood out, accenting his long and sharply defined face in a manner the master toymaker couldn't help but find appealing. Come to think of it, all his features were long, from his face to his arms, to his fingers. Nice to look at? Appealing? Noting his features? Marco mentally reprimanded himself for his lack of professionalism. It was only at this point that he realized he was still holding Jean's handshake and jumped back slightly in his haste to release the other's hand, scratching awkwardly at the side of his nose. "I ahm... I'm Marco. Well, obviously, you already knew that, wow duh, elegant. I... It's nice to meet you, Jean." Marco offered a small shy but friendly smile.

Marco couldn't help but notice how Jean's eyes narrowed at him slightly as if he was being analyzed before the slightly shorter elf looked him up and down once, then again with a small smirk pulling at his lips. Did he just check him out? No, that couldn't be right. "Great with the small talk there, Freckles. So you gonna teach me stuff now or what?"

Nodding mutely, Marco gathered himself before he started going through the basics of how his workbench was set up and where to find things. He knew Jean would already know the basics of toy construction from his time on the workline but certified and master toymakers worked at a whole different level exclusively with the detailed and complex toys and as such a whole different set of tools needed to be used. Shockingly enough, Jean seemed remarkably with-it during the whole process, taking in the information and unafraid of occasionally asking questions or clarifications. So far, Marco had to admit he was impressed. Maybe this one would last more than a few weeks after all.

Once the basics were out of the way, Marco got Jean started on a few test projects to evaluate his skills, strengths, and weaknesses. Jean seemed to get a certain _look_ about him when he focused, the smugness that seemed otherwise to come so naturally to him disappeared and his attention went entirely to the task at hand. It was definitely intriguing. And, thankfully for Marco, he seemed to be quite good at what he did, adding small flourishes to the details on the work he did much as Marco himself liked to do to give each toy individuality. Yes, Marco decided, he'd give this one a chance.

The afternoon passed smoothly and before he felt much time at all had passed, it was quitting time for the evening. Marco, entirely distracted by the way Jean moved as he put away his supplies despite his internal chiding of himself for his lack of professionalism, fumbled his pleasantries again but Jean only seemed entertained by the freckled toymaker's utter lack of ability to keep himself together. Marco wandered himself off to dinner trying desperately to pretend his head wasn't in nearly as much of a Jean-induced fog as it felt like.

Was he getting a crush on his new apprentice? Him, Marco the master toymaker? The destroyer of aspiring apprentices? No, that couldn't be right.

And yet...

\---

By the end of the first week, Marco found he and Jean had settled into a natural rhythm of working around eachother surprisingly easily. Jean would ask for his opinion or a review of his work only here and there when he reached a natural stopping point, rather than bugging him after practically every stroke of paint or solder of wire as countless other apprentices before him had done. Their conversations were easy as well, discussing anything that happened to pop up as a topic from hobbies to interests to books. At least, their conversations were easy when Jean didn't happen to stretch or bend over to get something while talking, turning Marco into a blubbering gawking mess for a few minutes until he composed himself. Equally, however, Marco seemed to keep catching Jean's gaze lingering on him out of the corner of his eye despite his best attempts to convince himself it couldn't possibly be.

As the end of the second week came around, Marco was becoming increasingly convinced that Jean was deliberately tempting him. The way he'd overemphasize his stretching, the way he'd go out of his way to take things from the upper shelves when they'd go to get additional supplies from the supply room, the way his eyes would zero-in on Marco's lips when he was talking, the way he'd catch Jean more blatantly eying him as if he might devour him whole, the way his long fingers would linger in Marco's touch when he handed him something, it all just added up quickly. Marco, for his part, found himself trying less and less sincerely to hide his gawking and longing gazes. It was when he realized that the faces on the batch of action figures he was making were increasingly resembling his apprentice that he realized he was truly screwed.

Marco rushed from his workbench that evening the second the clock hit quitting time, making a beeline for Mikasa's station and leaving a bewildered Jean in his wake. He knew if he didn't catch her before she left the department that she'd be having dinner with her brother Eren from the sled maintenance crew and the last thing he wanted was to talk about _feelings_ in front of Eren. Not only had they dated—however unsuccessfully—a decade or so ago, but Eren would tell Armin in the naughty-nice committee who would tell his coworker Krista who would tell her girlfriend—and unfortunately Marco's cousin—Ymir the reindeer keeper and if it reached _Ymir_ then everyone would know by breakfast tomorrow. It was just a fact. It was the Rule of Ymir. It was practically sacred. No, Marco certainly didn't want that happening.

Thankfully, he caught her just as she was packing up the last of her supplies. "Mikasa, thank goodness. Can... can we talk? I need your level head," he breathed, trying to catch his breath as he spoke.

Mikasa quirked her head at him slightly. "Of course. Walk and talk or should we grab cocoa?"

"Cocoa would be great," Marco nodded, relieved. "I don't exactly... want this getting around."

Mikasa understood his implication immediately. Together they headed to the nearest cocoa cafe rather than their usual cafeteria. It would be much more deserted this time of day and afford them at least some margin of privacy for their discussion.

"So, what's got you in such a bother that you're coming to me of all people rather than someone like Sasha? Aren't you two closer?" Mikasa asked as she perched on the edge of her seat, crossing her legs casually as she perched the cocoa Marco had bought her on her knee. While the main cafeterias were free, the cafes were considered a luxury item with their higher quality and slower pace and their goods had to be paid for separately from their discretionary wages.

"I... Well I need to... I need a level and logical opinion and you're the most logical and level friend I've got." Marco sighed, taking a sip of his own cocoa to center himself. He kept his knees close together to keep his legs from bouncing with nerves. "Would it be as awful of an idea as I think it would be to uhm..." Marco looked away slightly. "To ask an apprentice out? Namely... my own apprentice?" His eyes darted back to hers only momentarily. "Are we allowed, even?"

A bemused smirk played across Mikasa's lips as she sipped her drink and Marco eyed her suspiciously. "I thought he'd lasted an unusually long time with you. Can't say I'm surprised. You've got a type, you know."

Marco squawked slightly at that, a blush tinging his freckled cheeks. "Wh-what are you talking about? I do not!" That wasn't something he was expecting to hear.

"Bold, unapologetic, skilled in their field, not prone to idol-worship," Mikasa shrugged slightly. "It's why you asked out Eren. But to answer your question, intradepartmental romance _is_ generally frowned upon, but it's not against the _rules_ or anything. Just discouraged because it can get a bit... messy if things don't go well. But the toymakers department is big enough that it happens all the time and bench-swaps aren't too big of a hassle should for some reason things go badly."

"Should things go badly? That's... encouraging," Marco swallowed a nervous laugh, scratching at his nose. The possibility of things "going badly" wasn't something he wanted to think about yet, not before there were even any "things" that could go badly, at least.

Mikasa waved him off casually. "That's not what I meant. I just meant that there's really no harm in it. That said, he'll wind up needed a secondary evaluation by another master toymaker at the end of his apprenticeship with you if your relationship is public knowledge. Personal bias, you know."

Marco nodded thoughtfully, worrying his lower lip slightly before taking another sip of cocoa. "Alright. Well... that's good to know, at least. I do feel better knowing it's at least not a violation or something. There's enough people on the head toymakers council who already dislike me for having my rank at my age that I'm not keen on breaking any rules." He nodded at Mikasa slightly with a genuine smile. "Though I hear you're gonna be in the same boat soon."

"Me? We'll see. I've gotten some really good marks on my last few reviews. But who knows." Marco could see the excitement sparking behind her reserved smile. "But no changing the subject. Are you going to? Ask him, that is?"

Marco looked away with another blush tinting his face, watching the crowds passing by outside the cafe with a small smile. "I... I'm not sure yet. We'll see how things go."

Mikasa looked at her watch and stood. "I'd better get going. Eren's probably ready to send out a search party from the cafeteria by now."

Marco laughed at that, downing the last of his cocoa and standing. "Yeah, sounds like him. Thanks, Mikasa. I really appreciate this." Together, they left the cafe, heading for the cafeteria for something more substantial than a cup of cocoa.

Just before they went their separate ways at the cafeteria, Mikasa pulled him down into a hug and spoke quietly. "Don't wait too long to decide, Marco. I know you, you lose yourself in possibilities and presumptions. Don't write things off before you've even tried."

A small chuckle escaped the freckled toymaker as he pulled away. Mikasa certainly had his number after all these years. "I won't." He waved her off then, turning to get himself some dinner while Mikasa was tackle-hugged by an overly-excited Eren.

\---

Despite having felt reassured after his conversation with Mikasa before the weekend, Marco had spent the entire weekend second-guessing himself and over-analyzing things as usual. By the time Monday came around, he was even more unsure than he had started. He wasn't about to make a move until he was sure. But he couldn't deny the pull of his attraction to Jean was getting stronger with each passing day.

It was Wednesday afternoon of the third week with Jean as his apprentice when the edges of his resolve started to fray. Marco had gone to the bathroom and when he returned he found a sight that absolutely seared itself into his brain. Jean was bent over his workbench, swaying his hips idly as he carefully painted small, demure smiles on doll heads. When he turned his head to look over his shoulder at Marco, Jean licked his lips slowly before speaking. "Does this look alright, Marco?"

"You look great— _It!_ It! It looks great, I mean," Marco stumbled over his words, mentally smacking himself in the head as he blushed furiously. Well, that was smooth. This crush of his was getting out of hand but he still wasn't sure if he was ready to do anything about it.

Jean smirked slightly in return, saying nothing but Marco swore he started swaying his hips more _deliberately_ after that. Marco busied himself as far at the opposite end of the bench as he could for the rest of the day.

That night in the privacy of his bedroom, Marco couldn't help how his mind played that sight over and over again behind his eyelids. Jean, bent over with his hips swaying invitingly, looking back over his shoulder at Marco as he licked his lips _so_ slowly. His wrist—and elsewhere—was slightly sore from repetitive motion by the time he managed to fall asleep.

It was early on Friday afternoon when his resolve threatened to snap. Jean had been looking over Marco's shoulder as he showed him how to do the wiring for a small remote-controlled plane. While he was mostly assigned to do detailed painting work, sometimes small electronics were put into his schedule as well for the small connections required. Jean leaned in slightly for a closer look as Marco finished up, in the process letting his hand drift to rest on the small of Marco's back and sending heat radiating through the master toymaker's body from that one touch. Marco jumped slightly, stuttering in a gasp before cursing quietly as the jolt made him connect the wrong two wires with solder.

The master toymaker felt his apprentice's breath hot and electric against his skin as Jean whispered in his ear. "Now now, Marco, that's a _naughty_ word."

Marco choked on air at that and jolted upright, sliding out from Jean's hold. "I... uhm... excuse me a moment," Marco squeaked out his words before bolting for the nearest bathroom. He was entirely sure his face was a rather unnatural shade of red from how hard he was blushing. Locking the stall behind him, he leaned against the door as his heart hammered in his chest. Marco couldn't help how his mind replayed the happenings of the last few minutes. He realized he was already half-hard and groaned softly in the thankfully empty bathroom, head thunking back against the door.

This was absurd. Whether he acted on his feelings or not, he couldn't let it be so easy for Jean to ruffle his feathers, he decided. In fact, if he thought about it, Jean deserved to be made to squirm as well. If Jean was going to torment him like this, it was only fair that Marco would have to simply give it as hard as he got it. Marco's mind wandered unbidden over the more inappropriate implications of that phrase and his dick gave an encouraging throb from within his increasingly tight pants. Cursing softly, Marco checked the door was locked and unzipped his pants, deciding it was better to get out some of his pent-up frustrations now than risk popping a boner when he got back on the floor.

It didn't take him long to get off, picturing Jean's warm hands all over his skin, Jean's breath ghosting over his neck, Jean's body pressed up tight against his, the smirk in Jean's voice as he whispered to him. It was more a desperate and needy whimper than a moan that escaped Marco's lips as he came as quietly as he could. He cleaned up quickly, splashing some cold water on his face for good measure as he washed his hands before heading back to his workbench.

Jean was casually bent over the bench working on the last of the soldering connections when Marco got back. The younger apprentice set his final finished piece to the side, looking up at Marco with that same devilish and teasing smirk as he swayed his hips slightly. "Everything alright there, Freckles? I finished these up while you were gone because I ran out of blank heads for those action figures I was doing but I don't have a key."

"Y-yeah," Marco nodded perhaps a bit too quickly, fighting his blush. "We can go get some more now?" he suggested, trying to not gawk too openly at the sway of his apprentice's hips but no longer trying nearly as hard to contain it as he would have a few days ago.

Jean nodded and stretched as he straightened himself, shirt riding up slightly, and followed Marco to the supply room.

Rather than just grab the box off the high shelf as he might have otherwise, Marco simply stepped to the side slightly and gestured to the box. It was a fairly high shelf but certainly not beyond Jean's reach and not heavy at all. "It's that one right up there."

"That one?" Jean confirmed before reaching up to grab the box. He stumbled backwards slightly as he pulled the box off the shelf.

Marco instinctively reached out, setting his hands on Jean's hips to steady him and stepping in close behind him. His hands met bare skin where Jean's shirt had rode up again as he stretched and a gasp escaped them both. Electric sensations coursing through his fingertips that made his head spin, Marco let temptation guide him as he ghosted his hands across Jean's sides slightly. "Careful there..." he breathed, reveling in how Jean shuddered and pressed back against him slightly.

Stepping back now that Jean was steadied, he couldn't help noticing how Jean seemed to deflate a bit at the loss of contact. It was tempting, so tempting, to just close the gap between them again and run his fingers over more of Jean's soft, warm skin. He wanted to touch him everywhere. To taste him. To feel Jean's breath catch in his throat before Marco's name slipped past his lips. But Marco resisted, heading instead for the door and looking back at Jean with a quirk of his lips. "Coming?" He wasn't entirely sure if it was just his imagination that Jean breathed a barely audible "hopefully soon" as his blushing apprentice passed him by.

They worked fairly quietly for the rest of the afternoon, as though both of them were lost in their own thoughts. Marco, for his part, was still reeling from the sensation of Jean's skin beneath his touch, finding his gaze drifting from his work to his fingertips every so often as though they held some hidden secret. Jean definitely hadn't been expecting him to reciprocate their teasing interactions, but as far as Marco had seen he certainly hadn't seemed to object either. Quite the opposite, really, from how Jean had leaned back against him.

"Hey, Jean?" Marco asked shortly before the end of the day. This was it. He was going to ask Jean out and find out once and for all if this was all in his head or not.

"Hmmh?" Jean asked, looking up from his work.

"I uhm..." Marco started before faltering. "You have uh... you have paint on your cheek," he finished lamely. He couldn't do it. He just couldn't.

Marco tried to suggest the idea of Jean getting dinner, lunch, even just a cocoa with him a few more times before the end of the day but each attempt ended with an equally lame topic change as he chickened out and they parted ways with nothing more than a "see you Monday" and a few more longing glances of unspoken words. What if he asked and Jean only said yes because he felt he had to because Marco was his boss? Or worse, what if he said no and it made things awkward between them and Jean asked for a transfer? Marco didn't think he could stand being tossed back into the fray of being swarmed by apprentice hopefuls after having such a wonderful reprieve with Jean. Selfish, perhaps, but maybe it was better that they just continued their teasing dance around eachother. At least, for now.

He told Mikasa as much when they had lunch together on Saturday. She had asked him to grab lunch with her to check on how things were going with his little apprentice problem.

"So I just... I don't know if it's worth it," Marco sighed softly as he finished giving her the updates since their last conversation—leaving out certain more _intimate_ details, obviously—and running a hand through his hair.

"You really like him?" Mikasa confirmed, sitting back in her seat.

"So much," Marco replied breathily. "He's abrasive yeah but he's also funny and you can tell he really cares about everything he talks about and he's not afraid to call someone out when he thinks they're wrong and his laugh is like little sparks of colour and not to mention his _body_ is..." Marco cleared his throat with a small blush. "Yes, I really like him."

"Then it's worth it," she shrugged as if it were obvious.

"But I just... I _can't_. Not that I don't want to, I just can't do it! I tried on Friday and I just couldn't. I kept chickening out."

Mikasa thought for a moment before a small wry smirk crept across her face. "Oh, I think you'll be able to act when the moment is right."

Marco frowned. He didn't like that smirk. That smirk meant she was plotting something. He knew Mikasa had a darker mischievous side that few saw as she rarely revealed herself as the orchestrator, preferring to stay behind the proverbial curtain. "What are you up to...?"

Mikasa tilted her head innocently, voice pitching up ever so slightly. "Why, Marco, my friend, I don't know what you're talking about. Just trust me."

Marco sighed resignedly, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Remind me again why I'm friends with you?"

"Because I've always got your best interests at heart?" she suggested in response.

Marco gave a small smile. He knew that much was true. "Fair enough."

Mikasa excused herself shortly thereafter, leaving Marco to finish his lunch alone with his thoughts.

\---

Monday rolled around quicker than Marco would have liked. The morning was uneventful but he had passed by Mikasa on his way back to his workbench after lunch and the look she had given him had made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. She was definitely up to something. Jean smirked his usual smirk at him when he arrived a few moments later and his worries about Mikasa's plots were temporarily forgotten in the mushy fog his brain devolved into.

"So are you always early?" Marco asked idly as they got to work.

"I try to be. It's better than being late and having to hurry. Makes me so nervous," Jean admitted. "I guess I just... don't like being unprepared and being early lets me make sure I'm set."

Marco nodded thoughtfully. "That makes a lot of sense. That's a good quality."

Jean tilted his head as he looked at him. "You think so?"

"Of course," Marco shrugged, trying to not blush as he looked at Jean genuinely. "You're always early, always prepared, put detail and character into your work... You'll be really good with a bit more experience under your belt."

Jean looked away with a small redness tinting his cheeks and the tips of his pointed ears. "Thanks..."

The moment was interrupted however, by Annie plopping down a folder of papers on their workbench, making them both jump. "You two. Extra assignment. You're always ahead and someone called in sick today so we need you to pick up the slack. Details and parts you'll need are in the folder." She turned and walked away without any other formalities, leaving Jean and Marco staring after her.

"...She's a bit scary," Jean commented finally.

"I could say you get used to it, but you really don't," Marco agreed, opening the folder curiously. "Matchbox car details? We still make these? Huh."

Jean looked over Marco's shoulder, pointing at the paper, pressing himself almost against Marco in order to do so. "It's a small order. So I guess we don't go through too many of them."

"I guess..." Marco replied, feeling the warmth radiating from Jean's body prickling at him in that familiar way. "Well, we'd better get started. We'll have to go get the shells, I don't keep those on hand anymore. Come on."

Jean nodded his understanding, following the older toymaker to one of the less used storage rooms, a bit farther away from their workbench. Jean looked around at the different shelves and boxes as Marco got the box of unpainted matchbox car shells from a low shelf. "Wow this stuff is all the smaller orders, isn't it. I can't imagine there's much movement on any of these."

"Basically," Marco nodded, standing up slowly with the small but heavy box in his hands and turning to face Jean. "But they're still requested on Christmas lists sometimes so we still have to have the parts on hand. Even if they're not as popular."

"That makes sense, everyone should get what they really want," Jean's words were quieter now as he took a few steps closer to Marco. His eyes darted from Marco's eyes to his lips and back again.

Marco nodded quietly, drawn to Jean's lips as well when he licked them slightly. His heart was racing slightly, quivering inside his chest. The tension in the air was charged, electric, the still moment in a storm after the lightning strikes but before the rumbling clap of thunder.

Marco couldn't take it. He chickened out again and turned away slightly, breaking the spell of the moment. And that was when he heard it. The faint _Click!_ that came from the door behind him. Marco spun back around on his heel, staring incredulously at the door, box slipping from his hands and landing with a thump on his own foot. "Fuck!" he hissed before slapping a hand over his mouth. "Oops. Ow, that really hurt. Crap, what jerk shut the door? We're clearly in here. Jerks."

"What's the big deal?" Jean asked, confused, as he crossed the room. Marco pretended to not notice the disappointment on his face as he passed by, lamenting his own cowardice. "We'll just open it again." He turned the handle and pulled. Nothing. Turned it the other way and pulled again. Pushed. Nothing. "...What the heck!?"

The master toymaker sighed, crossing the room as well. "It doesn't open from the inside if it's been shut from the outside. The one flaw in the system. And this room isn't used as often so it's not likely anyone will come by soon to let us out. There's an emergency button to call for maintenance to let us out but it'll take them a solid twenty minutes to get here." Marco pressed the button and let out a small puff of air as he closed his eyes, leaning against the wall beside the door. "And now we wait."

"Twenty minutes is better than never." Jean sighed, relief clear in his tone. He was silent for a moment before letting out a small thoughtful noise. Marco could hear Jean move in front of him but didn't bother to open his eyes. "So... what you're saying is we're trapped alone in this room together for the next twenty minutes?" Jean's voice was dripping with something almost predatory that made Marco open his eyes, gasping at how close Jean was to him. Any closer and the other would be pressed right up against him, eye-to-eye with the slight way Marco was leaning against the wall.

"J-jean?" Marco squeaked out his name as an almost-question. He shuddered as his apprentice lifted a hand and ghosted it down Marco's right arm from his shoulder to his elbow but didn't pull away. A small shaky sigh escaped him as Jean leaned in slightly and Marco could hear his own heart hammering in his chest so loud it would have nearly drowned out Jean's next words if he hadn't been so close.

"No more games, Marco," Jean breathed the words against Marco's lips before closing the distance between them in a forceful kiss, his other hand coming up to grip at Marco's left arm as well.

Marco felt his world shudder, though it could have just been his entire body. This was the clap of thunder. A thousand charged moments releasing at once with enough force to knock him over if he weren't already leaning against a wall. Marco gasped before letting out a shaky whine as Jean took his gasp as a chance to deepen the kiss. Marco's hands moved to grab Jean's waist to steady himself. Jean let a small groan slip into the kiss when Marco's hands squeezed tighter and Marco couldn't help a rare smirk, suddenly pushing Jean and himself away from the wall Marco was leaning on and slamming Jean's back into the neighbouring shelf as he took over the direction of their kiss. Jean moaned openly at that. Apparently Jean preferred things a bit rough, Marco noted. He bit teasingly at Jean's lips before breaking away from the temptation of his mouth to bite and nip at the pointed tip of Jean's ear, tasting the salty flavour of his skin.

" _M-marco..._ " Jean's head tipped back as he clung to him tightly, pulling him even closer as their bodies slotted together, Marco's name slipping breathily past his lips. "Marco..." Jean purred, threading a hand into Marco's hair and tugging slightly as he guided their mouths back together for another searing kiss, rolling his hips up against Marco's with a groan.

Marco moaned into the kiss, gripping Jean's waist tighter as he ground his hips against him. Distantly, he realized he would probably leave bruises on Jean's hips, but from the way Jean tugged at his hair as his knees buckled he didn't see any objections. Marco broke away from the kiss causing Jean to whine slightly but stayed close, leaning his forehead against that of his apprentice as they both panted quietly. "We should continue this later when we're _not_ at work," he breathed.

"Mmh, sounds good to me." Jean smirked slightly, looping his arms around Marco's neck, giving him a light peck on the lips. "And here I was a bit afraid you'd push me away when I kissed you."

"Are you kidding? I've been trying to convince myself to ask you out for days, Jean. But I kept backing out at the last second," Marco admitted.

"Well I guess sometimes all it takes is a little... push," Jean rolled his hips to emphasize his point.

Marco groaned, biting Jean's lip in response. "You're a dirty tease."

Jean's smirk grew wider and he looked like he was about to reply when the sound of the door opening made them both jump apart, looking at the door.

"Got an alert that someone was stuck in—" The maintenance tech paused, looking from the small red marks on Jean's neck to Marco's tousled hair, to both of their swollen lips, before turning and walking back out of the room without another word.

Marco buried his face in his hands. "Oh my gosh. I'm so embarrassed. He probably thinks we locked ourselves in here on purpose now."

Jean laughed at that, kissing Marco on the cheek and succeeding in deepening the blush on the freckled elf's face. "Relax, Freckles. I don't think anyone would be _that_ desperate. Come on then, you're a free elf."

Jean took a step towards the door but Marco reached out to grab his hand, tugging him back with a small yelp. Marco scanned Jean's face for a moment, debating with himself before kissing him lightly. "After we're done for today... you wanna get dinner together?" As much as he wanted to just invite Jean back to his place straight out, he also didn't want him thinking this was just about sex.

"Sounds good to me." Jean smiled, not one of his usual smirks, but an actual smile. Marco considered this an accomplishment, even as the smile slipped back into a smirk as Jean added on to his agreement. "But not that awful overcrowded cafeteria you always go to."

"...How do you know where I eat?" Marco asked a bit defensively, eyes narrowing.

Jean shrugged with a laugh. "I notice things. I try to be prepared, remember?"

Marco chuckled and nodded. "Fine. Trost cafeteria is off the list."

"Then you've got a deal. Now let's get back to work." Jean reached to smooth Marco's hair as best as he could before he pulled away, going to pick up the forgotten box from earlier before heading for the door.

Marco smiled to himself at the slight pep in Jean's step, deciding to not mention it as he was sure the same was in his own step, as he followed his apprentice back to their workbench. He passed Mikasa going in the opposite direction, heading towards the supply rooms. She seemed to falter at seeing the two of them, taking in Jean and Marco's overall appearances with an analytical gaze before her lips pulled into a small self-satisfied smile. Well, that probably explained the mysterious shutting door. Marco wouldn't have been surprised if she'd orchestrated the whole thing somehow, from the door to the additional assignment.

It was only when they had gotten out their supplies and opened up the box and the folder they'd been given with patterns to put onto the cars that the reality sunk in for Marco. He was having dinner with Jean after work. He'd snogged Jean in a locked supply room. This was happening. He wanted to squeal for joy but restrained himself after a small squeak that escaped him made Jean turn to look at him as though he were some odd sort of animal before smiling the smallest smile as he shook his head disbelievingly. Still, Marco felt how his face erupted into a wide grin that faded slowly over the next while into a private smile that stayed with him for the rest of the day through their conversations. What had happened earlier wasn't mentioned explicitly but it was still fresh in both of their minds in the details, from how their touches lingered whenever one passed something to the other to how the points of their ears tinted pink whenever one caught the other looking at him for a little too long to the small reserved twinge of a smile on even Jean's normally scowling face.

At the end of the day, Jean and Marco worked quickly to put their supplies away, continuing their conversation as if it were their usual habit. Jean didn't ask Marco where they were going, Marco noted. Whether it was pure curiosity or a seedling of trust, Marco wasn't sure; but it made his heart flutter nonetheless. This could be their new normal. Finishing work and getting dinner together, he realized. Eating dinner, going back to his place, having a much more intimate dessert—Whoah there. Marco stopped himself before his thoughts could get out of hand, face flushing. He felt Jean's hand come to rest at the small of his back and startled slightly at realizing Jean was standing right beside him looking fretful.

"You okay there, Marco? You just... stopped walking."

Oh, well that explained the fretful look. "Yeah, sorry. Just lost in thought. A bit surreal, you know?" he admitted.

Jean reached up without warning and pinched Marco's cheek, making him yelp out a small pained noise while rubbing the spot. "Well, looks like you're not dreaming, Freckles. Now come on, where are we going?"

"...Rude," Marco muttered with a small shake of his head before gesturing down a side road. "This way."

They arrived at a small cafe shortly after that offered a wide selection of soups and sandwiches to compliment their drinks. It was larger than his usual quiet cocoa place but not too crowded with only a few other people scattered among the tables.

Marco ordered for himself a grilled nutella and cheese sandwich with chicken soup before turning to Jean. "Come on, my treat."

He tried to not feel _too_ self-satisfied by the way Jean blushed, looking away. "You don't have to do that."

Marco waved a hand at him casually. "I make more than you. Don't worry about it. Now come on."

Jean worried his lip for a moment before settling on ordering a popcorn and peanut butter sandwich with chicken soup as well. "...Thanks," Jean added as they took their food and headed for a small table towards the corner by a large window.

They talked quietly but easily as they ate but Marco noticed with confusion how Jean became quieter as their meal neared its end before falling silent as he stared out the window. Jean worried his lip between his teeth again, an apparent nervous habit, and Marco frowned slightly.

"Everything okay...?" Marco asked, reaching out to cover the back of one of Jean's hands with his own. Jean jumped slightly but relaxed into the touch. He didn't like seeing Jean concerned like this. It wasn't... It wasn't a natural look on his normally confident and borderline cocky apprentice.

"This is okay, right?" Jean looked down before continuing. "I mean... I'm not going to get you in trouble or damage your reputation or something? _The Master Toymaker Marco_ hooking up with a lowly apprentice?" Jean over-emphasized the title dramatically with a roll of his eyes.

Marco breathed out a sigh of relief with a small chuckle that made Jean look at him in bafflement. "Is that all? Well no, neither of us would get in trouble. I checked. But as for my _reputation_? Firstly, I'm hoping I'm not just "hooking up" with you, Jean. I really like you. I want more than that. And besides, I couldn't care less even if it did make some people dislike me for some reason. Half the head toymakers council already dislikes me because I'm too young for their standards. What's one more little detail if it makes me this happy?"

"H-hey, no need to go getting all s-sappy on me, Freckles," Jean stuttered out, looking away bashfully before letting his eyes flit back to Marco's as he spoke again. "But... me too; I don't want a hookup either. ...And you're not that different in age than me anyway."

He remembered Jean having mentioned that he was a bit older than the average apprentice, having started out in the sled maintenance department before being offered reassignment for his skill with detailed work but he never gave any specifics. Marco tilted his head. "How... How old are you, Jean?"

Jean's gaze fell to the table. "Ninety five," he replied softly, swirling the last dribs of his cocoa. "I'm probably the oldest apprentice working in the department by a long shot. You're my fourth master in four years. I can't seem to stick with anyone."

Marco stroked the back of Jean's hand with his fingers gently, fingertips wandering in small patterns across it. "Maybe you just needed to find the right fit," he offered, his tone gentle but genuine.

Jean moved his hand and for a moment Marco thought he would pull away before Jean surprised him as he laced their fingers together, lips pursed into a small smile. "The right fit? Yeah... Maybe."

Squeezing Jean's fingers with his own, Marco chuckled. "Now who's sappy?"

"Sh-shut up," Jean muttered in response, pulling his hand away. He was silent for a moment as he looked at Marco, seemingly drawn in. Jean's eyes darted in quick but small movements across Marco's face, neck, and arms curiously.

"J-jean you're staring..." Marco squirmed slightly under the other's gaze, feeling his face heat up.

"Are they... everywhere?" Jean asked, the topic change sudden and unexpected and leaving Marco floundering in response.

"E-excuse me?"

"Your freckles," Jean responded as if it were obvious. "Are they _everywhere?_ "

Marco's face flushed bright red as he chuckled nervously, scratching at the side of his nose. "I d-don't see how that's relevant. But uhm... yeah, basically..." Marco turned his face away, willing the redness to fade from his cheeks.

"Good," Jean concluded after a moment's silence.

"Good?" Marco mirrored his conclusion as a question, looking back at Jean with a small furrow of his brow. What could he possibly mean by that?

Jean gestured for Marco to lean in as though to tell him some secret and he complied automatically before he could think better of it. "I've never seen a freckled dick before." Jean whispered the words in his ear and Marco choked.

"O- _Oh..._ " he breathed shakily in reply as he felt his brain short out, convinced he felt half the blood that belonged there making a beeline for his dick instead. He did his best to muster his composure before quietly responding, still more shaky than he would have liked. "Well... we could always uhm... go back to my place? Maybe you can s-see for yourself?"

Jean sat back in his seat with a smirk. "Well come on then, Freckles. Or are we just gonna sit here all day?"

Marco was quick to move at that, tripping over his own feet in his haste to stand up from his chair. "Yeah, yep, yes." He chided himself for being too overeager—really he was 110 not 50—but Jean's amused chuckle when he stood and followed made him feel a bit better about the whole thing.

It wasn't a far walk back to Marco's place from the cafe, maybe ten minutes at best. But for Marco it felt like forever with how his heart raced and nervous excitement fluttered in his chest. An odd combination of relief, anxiety, and anticipation washed through him as he opened his door, letting Jean in behind him and locking the door before turning to face him. "S-so what do—"

He was cut off with a surprised squawk as Jean yanked him in by his shirt for a bruising kiss. Marco's hands flew to Jean's shoulders to steady himself before he used his new found leverage to push Jean back against the door with a thump. Jean's gasp caught in his throat as Marco tangled his fingers in the blond's hair, tugging to make him tilt his head and expose more of his neck which Marco promptly latched onto, drawing out a soft moan. His grip on Marco's shirt loosened as he gave Jean's neck a series of long slow licks before his hands were once again grabbing and scrabbling for purchase as the taller elf found a spot he liked and began suckling on it, leaving a nice dark mark. He let his teeth scrape across it once and felt Jean's knees nearly buckle beneath him as he moaned Marco's name.

Jean's hands trailed down Marco's chest only to slide back up again under his shirt, making him shiver. He rolled their hips together and making the freckled toymaker let out a moan of his own in response as his head spun, suddenly painfully aware of how hard he was and how tight his pants were.

"B-bed, now..." he managed, pulling away slightly to lead the way with Jean following breathlessly behind him. When they reached the bed, it seemed Jean had decided to take the lead, pushing Marco back until he was sitting on the edge of the bed, looking up at Jean.

Jean smirked, straddling the other's lap. "Mm, it's nice to be able to look down at you for a change," he purred before kissing him roughly and grinding his ass down against the bulge in Marco's pants in a slow rhythm. Breaking the kiss, Jean drew Marco's lip between his teeth for a soft bite before pulling back. He kept up the slow roll of his hips as he stripped off his shirt before moving to do the same for Marco's. Jean paused once they were both shirtless, eyes and fingertips scanning over the other's chest and shoulders slowly.

"J-jean... you're staring again." Marco squirmed under the intensity of his gaze for a moment before he attempted to distract him by drawing his nails slowly down Jean's back. It worked. Jean's hands gripped tightly at Marco's shoulders as he arched back with a loud gasp. Marco leaned in, taking one dark pink nipple into his mouth and biting at it slightly.

Jean whined desperately at that, knuckles white and grip on Marco's shoulders bordering on painful. "Nnnh... _Marco._ " He pulled away and Marco was about to say something before Jean was kneeling in front of him and undoing Marco's pants. Jean wasted no time in encouraging Marco to kick them and his underwear off completely before settling in front of him, eying Marco's cock before licking his lips as he reached out to give him a few slow strokes and drawing out a small moan from Marco. "So they really _are_ everywhere..." Jean breathed, part fascination and part teasing. Marco blushed darkly, eyes darting to the side briefly before looking back at the man between his legs. Jean fixed him with easily the most sex-filled smirk Marco had ever seen as he licked his lips before he leaned in, taking him into his mouth.

" _Jean_... Oh..." Marco moaned out, fisting his hands in the sheets on either side of him. The hot moist warmth combined with the absolutely devilish look Jean was giving him with his lips wrapped around his cock overwhelmed Marco and he was certain his brain shorted out for a moment, mind filled with only Jean.

He felt Jean pulling at his hand and only then realized his eyes had slipped closed. Opening his eyes again, he watched as Jean bobbed his head slowly over only the tip of Marco's cock as he moved Marco's hand to thread through his hair again. Marco frowned slightly in confusion before Jean moved his head forward suddenly, the entire freckled length sliding past his lips. Marco's grip tightened reflexively around Jean's hair, pulling hard as he let out a loud moan. Jean moaned out from the tug on his hair, the vibrations traveling right through Marco's cock and making him gasp. Jean hardly missed a beat, head bobbing up and down Marco's cock quickly and easily as Marco clung desperately to Jean's hair with one hand and the sheets beside him with the other. Marco felt himself getting close, so close, but that was when Jean stopped, pulling back with a soft popping noise. Marco couldn't help it, he whined rather pathetically.

Jean chuckled in response. "Easy there, Freckles, I'm not done with you yet," he teased, standing and stripping himself of his remaining clothing. It was only now that Marco realized Jean had at some point already pulled his own length out of the confines of his pants. The implication that Jean was stroking himself while sucking Marco's cock made a small whimper escape him. Marco's gaze moved down Jean's body before settling on his cock. His was a bit thinner than Marco's but longer with light brown pubes trimmed short. Marco's mouth nearly watered at the sight as he reached out, ghosting his fingers across it before giving a few testing strokes. Jean let out a shuddering sigh, stepping closer between Marco's legs. Marco got the hint, leaning in to lick up the side of Jean's cock, taking in the musky scent that was entirely Jean with a small groan before slipping the length into his mouth. Jean steadied himself with his grip on Marco's shoulders again, rolling his hips slightly with his brow quirked in question. "This okay?"

"Mhm," Marco gave an encouraging groan around the head of Jean's cock at the thought of the other fucking his mouth and took him deeper.

Jean shuddered as he started up a slow pace, only half of his cock sliding in and out of Marco's mouth for now. Marco felt challenge flare within him and brought his hands up, giving Jean's ass—which he noted was firm beneath his touch—a hard squeeze as he pulled his hips forward until his nose was buried in Jean's pubes. Jean cursed out a moan as he gripped Marco's shoulders tightly before moving his hips more surely, fucking Marco's mouth fully with a steady pace. Jean's moans got louder and breathier as Marco continued before finally he pulled back, tapping Marco's shoulder breathlessly. "S-stop. I'm gonna cum if you keep that up."

Marco gave a small pout, curious to know how Jean tasted. But Jean didn't give him too much time to dwell on it, instead pushing him back so he was flat on his back. Marco gave a gasp, scooting up the bed quickly as Jean joined him, sliding his way up between Marco's legs and keeping his gaze as he did. Jean supported himself with one hand by Marco's head as he kissed him roughly. Marco responded with equal hunger, nails stroking up and down Jean's biceps. He felt Jean's hand slip between them before moaning into the kiss as Jean stroked their cocks together, the remaining saliva offering just enough slickness for Jean's long fingers to slide easily and quickly around them.

It didn't take long until they were both obviously close, panting and hips twitching in small uncontrolled motions. Jean broke the kiss, leaning his forehead on Marco's instead as he continued to stroke them both with quick jerking motions, breaths heavy and desperate. Jean came first, moaning out Marco's name as his hips jerked forcefully. The broken way Jean moaned out his name as he came and the sudden sticky warmth against his skin pushed Marco over the edge as he came shortly after, Jean's name spilling from his lips as he came, gripping his arms tightly. Jean rolled off to the side of him, panting heavily with a contented grin. "So I guess... we'll just have to save the fucking for next time," he teased.

Marco rolled his eyes with a laugh as he turned onto his side, stealing a breathless kiss. "Hmm I think I can live with that."

Jean wiped up at least part of the mess with the corner of the sheet before he scooted in closer, pulling Marco in close to him as Marco tugged up the blankets. "I should go soon... I don't have anything to wear to work tomorrow..." Jean sighed after a few minutes of peaceful silence.

Marco held him tighter, not wanting to sacrifice the comfort and warmth filling him. "You could borrow one of my old uniforms, they'd probably fit. If you wanna stay, I mean." He added the last part hesitantly.

Jean was silent for a while and Marco wasn't entirely sure if he'd fallen asleep. Marco considered shaking Jean slightly to see if he was awake. "Yeah... I'd like that," he agreed finally, curling in closer, tips of his ears red with a slight blush.

Marco smiled at that. He was glad for this. Jean was warm in his arms, his soft breaths as he fell asleep reassuring. Sure, they might get a bit of extra hassle for this. But if it meant more moments like this, it was definitely worth it.

And he'd have to remember to thank Mikasa for getting them locked in a supply closet.

 


End file.
